He does that
by Anonymous and Unomynous
Summary: Simple rules to follow if you find yourself in Gotham. 1. Run like hell when you see someone at night 2. Run like hell when you think you're being followed 3. Make sure you have shoes, it makes the running considerably easier. A transported story. BruceOC
1. Chapter 1

**Well we are back! We've been busy... very busy... and we are sorry for this. But we are writing this story now, and will hopefully update regularly.**

But given our track record I wouldn't bloody count on it.

**Yes... well... anyway we would like to introduce you to our new OC - Emily. Hopefully we will update soon... but as my _partner_ said we don't really have the best record in this department. Anyway here you go! Good luck!**

Disclaimer: We don't own batman... if we did Christian Bale would have had WAY more shirtless scenes. Although they would have all been 'tasteful'.

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Letting out a sigh of relief Emily threw her keys on to her living room table, and sunk into an armchair. Work had been hard that day, even more so than normal. Having been roped into covering a shift for her 'on again - off again' friend Bonnie, meant she had spent the last eight hours standing behind a checkout. Such fun. Definitely where she had imagined her life ending up.

Managing to haul herself to her feet, she walked over to her kitchen, pressing a button on her answering machine on the way.

"Honey this is your mother. Again. Remember? The woman who ruined her body, and spent seven hours in labour, to bring you into this world. Why haven't you called me back yet? You haven't had your fitting, _still,_ and your sister is starting to fret,"

Emily looked up from the bottom of her fridge to roll her eyes at the answering machine, her sister was always 'fretting'.

"...if this is your attempt to get out of coming to this wedding then you will be very, very, disappointed. I will _drag _your sorry behind here, kicking and screaming, if necessary..."

Emily continued to root through her fridge to find something edible, she really needed to go shopping. Ironic that she would forget to do it, considering she actually worked in a supermarket...

"..anyway love you darling. Call me soon."

She sighed to herself, rubbing her eyes she stood up and walked over to the phone. Pizza for dinner tonight. God she loved pizza.

Twenty minutes later the pizza had arrived, she had changed into her pyjamas, and was now snuggled up on her couch, wrapped up in a blanket.

"Let the awesomeness begin!"

She hit play on the DVD remote, while flushing at her own dorky-ness. Luckily her neighbours were out for the night, the walls between the apartments in her building were quite thin. That plus she had practically screamed her last sentence.

She smiled as the movie began, snuggling even deeper into her blanket, reminding her of a blanket igloo. She almost laughed out loud at that, her brain made for a good companion sometimes, lucky too considering she was viewed as somewhat of a shut-in by her mother. Probably by the rest of her family too.

But that was fine. She didn't mind at all. She was perfectly content with having no life.

It was only a little in to the film when her eyelids had begun to get heavy, she fought to stay awake as best she could. Emily smiled a little, gave up and closed her eyes, letting the voices from the television wash over her.

_"Well, it's a good thing I left everything to you, then."_

_"Quite so, sir. And you can borrow the Rolls if you like. Just bring it back with a full tank."_

She felt something hard jab her in the back, and pulled her blanket further over her head. Whatever it was jabbed her again, harder this time.

"Hey lady, you better move. Looks like rain."

Emily's eyes opened in an instant and she sat up too fast, making herself woozy. She looked towards where she had heard the voice. But the man who had woken her up had already begun to walk away.

She looked to her left and then to her right frantically, where the hell was she?

She was currently lying, well sitting now technically, in what appeared to by an alley. An alley filled with homeless men, and a passed out guy in a suit.

Blinking rapidly she realised it was most definitely not her apartment, her apartment was only slightly nicer than this. She cracked a small smile at the joke she had made in her head, and then proceeded to stand up quickly. Three seconds later she, with her blanket in tow, was trying to catch up to the man who had woken her up, as he was almost gone already. Jumping from spot to spot, half running, she knew she wouldn't reach him any time soon. She had never been a very fast runner, plus she was slowed down by the fact that there was glass everywhere, and not wearing any shoes, she had to avoid stepping on it.

"Hey! Hey you! Mister!"

He turned around, and Emily being raised to be a polite young woman, only managed to just disguise her look of revulsion. The man was absolutely filthy, almost to the point that she was considering taking him home to let him use her bathtub. All she had to do first was find out exactly where home was...

"Um... hi... yes. Well. Um.. You see..."

He was smiling at her now, making her slightly uncomfortable. She knew it certainly wasn't meant to be creepy, but she still couldn't help but feel that it was. She mentally slapped herself, there were bigger things to worry about and this man had only been nice so far. That plus she really did need to find out where the hell she was.

"You OK Miss?"

She smiled at him, and nodded. Then she realised she actually wasn't, and shook her head, still smiling.

"Um I'm a little lost... OK I'm actually very lost. You see I went to sleep in my apartment... and well as you can see," she waved her arm around, "this isn't _exactly_ my apartment."

He let out a hearty laugh.

"Well of course not! It's mine!" He seemed to find his joke terribly funny, and continued laughing.

She laughed a little too, but he stopped all of a sudden.

"Alright, so you are lost?"

She nodded.

"Well where do you live honey? I can hardly help you get home, if I don't know where your home is."

She looked uneasy by this plan, but he continued smiling, his teeth were yellow she noted.

"Well how about you just tell me where we are."

He grinned.

"Downtown."

"Helpful. Thanks." He started laughing at her response.

"Come on, I'll take you somewhere you are sure to know. Then you can get home from there. How 'bout that?"

Her smile reappeared, genuine this time, and she nodded. And so they headed off, to where she had no idea.

She thought they must have looked completely insane.

After walking for almost an hour, he didn't have money for them to catch a bus, or a monorail that she was sure didn't exist in Boston, while she didn't have her wallet, they had finally begun to enter a somewhat acceptable area. Which basically meant they had both relaxed a little with the fear of being mugged lessening. On the other hand everyone else they had seen had become increasingly suspicious of them.

What a sight they must have made, nestled amongst all of the businessmen and women walking down the street. He was dressed in a jacket, which looked ridiculous on him given his size. It was too small, and he was too big. That plus he was filthy, smelt funny, and was only wearing one shoe. She was almost as bad as him though. She had attempted to make shoes from her blanket, by wrapping shreds around her feet, and was dragging the rest along the floor behind her. And she was still in her pyjamas. Which, unfortunately for her, consisted of only a pink pyjama pants, underwear under said pants, and a white singlet. Thank god it hadn't rained, she was not in the habit of wearing bras to sleep, something which she was deeply reconsidering under her current predicament, if it had rained then her shirt would have gone completely see through. She suspected it of being a little see through already.

She knew she should ask, it had been bugging her for almost an hour, ever since she had realised they weren't in Boston. Plus she could tell her walking companion was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the looks they were getting.

"Henry?"

He looked over to her, offering a small smile.

"Don't worry we're almost there."

"What town are we in?" Well that was tactful.

He looked at her like she had grown another head,

"Gotham darlin'. Where else would we be? You sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

Holy crap. Oh god. Fuck. Oh shit! She had to be dreaming. That was it. She was still asleep, admittedly she had already hurt her leg when she had fallen over earlier in the day, but this was just one of those really realistic dreams where you could feel pain. Right?

OK, well that just meant everything was going to be OK then. She was asleep, in Gotham, and was probably about to run into the Joker who would sweep her off her feet. Despite it being completely out of character. And he was insane. And she didn't actually like him like that, although he was pretty bad ass.

Having calmed down, and managed to avoid making a scene by having a panic attack, she grinned at Henry. Then nodded. Everything was going to be a-okay.

They turned the corner, and there it was. Wayne Tower, the unofficial centre of Gotham.

She gulped.

Everything was going to be a-okay.

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**Well that was part 1 of our story we hope you enjoyed it.**

Yes. Also if you read this we would be interested in hearing YOUR opinion but we're lazy and barely review anything either, so we don't expect it.

**Bye!**

XOXO


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again!**

We finished this a lot quicker than normal... it's actually pretty weird....

**Hope you like the new chapter!**

Disclaimer: We don't own batman. We do however own a less popular, and less known, super hero. FAT-MAN! He fights crime with his love handles of Justice! Even the blindest of men are completely repulsed by him!

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She had no idea what to do now. Sitting on the street curb, with Wayne tower just down the street, Emily was honestly at a loss with what to do with herself. As far as she knew, which she was pretty sure she did, she didn't exist in this world. Which meant there would be no record of her anywhere, meaning no social security number, no high school, or college, transcripts, and that would make it hard to do pretty much anything. God was she screwed. Normally her dreams would throw her a freaking bone, and make her rich. Ah well. Real life sucked, why shouldn't fake life suck too?

She stood up and looked around, as it turned out Henry did have money. Two dollars, and a dime, which was enough to buy a cup of coffee, provided it wasn't too good, but all she wanted was caffeine anyway so the quality didn't really matter.

They had said goodbye pretty quickly, he had realised how dirty he was and had only gone for a handshake. But she had hugged him anyway. He left then, after giving her money, which she had tried to refuse.

She made it halfway across the road, before she stepped on a rock. A sudden jolt of pain went up her leg, causing it to cramp and she fell over. The sound of a screeching car reached her ears and she opened her eyes to see a wheel only two inches in front of her. Wonderful. Now she had almost died, this dream was turning out to be quite memorable already.

She rolled out from under the front of the car, while a man got out to make sure he hadn't killed her. Well that was thoughtful at least. She shook her head, a dopey smile on her face, and stood up only to come face to face with the owner of the car. She inhaled deeply. No way.

"Are you alright Miss? You," he paused and took in her appearance, raising an eyebrow in question. "You weren't hit were you?"

Emily couldn't breathe, she kept trying but her brain wouldn't process properly. Alfred Pennyworth had almost run her over. This was the single greatest moment of her entire life, even if it was only a dream. On some level, she realised that was probably really sad.

--

The police station left something to be desired. It wasn't particularly large, which surprised her given the amount of crime that actually took place in Gotham, and it smelt kind of like pee.

And now she was stuck in some random office, which belonged to someone who wasn't even in the movies. She let out a sigh, looking up as a cop entered with two cups of, what she hoped, was coffee. He looked pretty young, probably only just out of training, but he had a big smile on his face. And coffee.

Taking a seat behind the desk he smiled at her, and handed her one of the cups, before pulling out some files and a pen.

"Right. So... the officer out the front says you don't remember your name?"

Emily nodded, figuring fake amnesia was probably going to be the best course of action. Even if it did sound completely ridiculous. Then again, given the situation, namely her dream royally screwing her over, she didn't exactly have many options.

Unfortunately quick thinking was not a talent that Emily possessed, and had therefore led her into her current predicament. After almost being run over, she had managed to tell Alfred, she still couldn't get her head around that bomb, that she had no idea who she was. Or how she had got there. So, being a concerned citizen, he had taken her straight to the police station, where she then had to lie to the officer at the front desk. After establishing that she "had no memories" they had taken pity on her, and kept her while saying Alfred could go. So far things had not gone as planned.

"OK well, I'm not exactly sure where to go from here."

Well that was reassuring.

"But I'm going to do my best to help you." He offered her a small smile, and began writing something down. A few minutes passed in silence, in which background Cop number 4, she had named him this as he still had yet to tell her what his name actually was, continued writing, and Emily contently sipped her coffee. It was good.

"OK well first thing's first. Do you have anyone we can contact to let them know you are here?"

He had to be joking right? A look passed across Emily's face, which seemed to convey her current feelings, and he paled, almost as if suddenly remembering why she was in his office in the first place.

"My bad."

She almost started laughing at him, he did look pretty guilty.

"OK. Sorry. Well. Um. Yes. Right, so, we're going to find somewhere for you to stay I think... Do you have any idea how old you are? It would make things a lot easier for us."

Emily thought about it for a moment, how far was she willing to go with this whole amnesia bit?

"I'm twenty. I think."

Background cop number 4 practically beamed at her.

"Wonderful! See you do remember something! OK well since you are over eighteen we don't need to get child services involved,"

Dear god did they really think she was seventeen, or younger? She didn't look _that _much like a child.

"but we would like to take you to the hospital. Just to make sure you're not hurt or anything."

Emily nodded, this was beginning to sound more and more boring by the second. Plus, knowing her luck, they would figure out she didn't have amnesia within five minutes of entering the hospital. She fought to let out a sigh when he began writing again.

Letting her gaze fall around the room Emily noticed the distinct lack of personality it had. The room held a few items, a desk, two chairs, a plant in the corner of the room, a poster on the wall with an angry looking dog saying something about drugs, and a rubbish bin. The desk itself was cluttered in papers, while the bin was full with empty coffee cups, and what looked like a half eaten bagel. Or at least she _hoped_ it was a half eaten bagel.

"I need to pee."

She almost winced at herself, after all she could have been more tactful.

He looked up for a second, and gave a small nod.

"Sure thing. Down the hall and to the left. Third door on your right." He motioned the directions with the end of the pen, before looking back down at his papers. Emily took this as her cue to leave, stood up and left, closing the door softly behind her.

Walking past a couple of strangers, who were all standing around a water cooler, Emily pulled the shirt she had been given by one of the female officers closer to her body. The woman in question, whom Emily had yet to meet, must have been the size of a tank as the shirt was practically swimming over her frame.

After finally finding the bathroom, having taken seventeen minutes and directions from another officer, Emily quickly walked over to a stall and locked herself inside. Putting the lid down and sitting on it, she pulled her knees up to her chest and held them there. She let out a deep sigh, and closed her eyes, resting her head against the cold wall behind her. It had been one hell of a day.

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**We hope you liked it! We would love to hear your opinion, if not then oh well. Updates might be a little while, check our profile page for update news!**

XOXO


	3. Chapter 3

**Well here you go!**

We're sorry it took longer than expected.

**We would love to hear your opinion's on this chapter so review if you want.**

Disclaimer: We don't own batman. No disclaimer joke today. HA!

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The past two days had been hell. After having been taken to the hospital, having numerous tests performed, which only didn't involve a rape kit because she had point blank refused, they had decided to keep her overnight. Emily was not a fan of injections, as she was certainly not a fan of pain. That accompanied with the fact hospitals made her nervous, ever since she had broken her arm when she was eight. And, on top of all that, she had yet to establish a Gotham time line, and she had been far more than worried about going to hospital. For all she knew the Joker could come and blow it up, and knowing her luck that wouldn't be too unlikely.

Sighing to herself she lay on her hospital bed, bored, but content enough to wallow in self-pity. She wanted to leave, but the little voice in her head would always speak up and remind her that she actually had nowhere _to _go. She had tried to sleep the night before, knowing it would have made a big difference. Instead, she had spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, and listening to the clock on the wall tick away the hours. The thing had been annoying as hell.

Rolling on to her back, she looked over at the clock, and realised Background Cop Number 4 was supposed to be showing up soon, with clothes and non-hospital food. She smiled to herself, number 4 was a nice guy, albeit a little awkward. Poor man had practically had a heart attack when a nurse had asked if they were "together", to which he had informed her the answer was no. And then had proceeded to try and explain that his girlfriend would do something horrible to him, involving a wrench and a pen, if he ever even looked, like that, at another girl.

Caught up in her own thoughts Emily didn't notice when the door to the room opened.

"Alright, let's see what we have shall we?"

Snapping her head up, making her both a little woozy, and hurting her neck in the process, she looked at the bemused face of "her" cop. Still trying not to laugh at her, he pulled up a chair next to her bed, and she noticed that he had brought a few bags with him. One of which looked suspiciously like it was made of felt.

"And how are we feeling today?"

She smiled, she knew he was actually asking if she had remembered anything new. By this point the doctors had confirmed that there was nothing physically wrong with her, and she wasn't a danger to herself, and so they were planning on releasing her later that day. It was more than a little worrying.

"Pretty good. A little tired, but I haven't remembered anything yet. Kind of annoying actually."

He smiled at her, a little bit of pity showing through.

"Well that sucks," she tried not to laugh, "but I brought you some things from home. I don't actually know what is in them... Amanda packed."

Emily nodded, Amanda was his girlfriend. Jerry, apparently that was his name, then began pulling items out of his bags, humming as he did so.

It ended up containing three shirts, a pair of pants she was sure wouldn't fit, a skirt, some socks, a brand new unopened pack of underwear, an assortment of bras, to which Jerry had gone bright red, and two pairs of shoes. Most of the items wouldn't fit, as Amanda had obviously no idea of her size when she had packed the bags, but she appreciated the effort.

He then pulled out a few bagels, and some coffee, from a paper bag he had been carrying. Pulling a table from the side of the room over, he placed them on it, practically beaming at himself.

"You are the single, most beautiful, man in the world."

He began laughing, and started pulling out papers from, yet another, bag he had been carrying.

"So there are some things we're going to have to sort out."

She couldn't help it and let out a sigh. Sitting up properly, and nursing her coffee, she nodded to let him know she was ready. All of the questions were beginning to become quite tiresome.

"So have you given any thought to your name?"

Emily almost choked, having forgotten about that she had, in fact, not thought about her name. She could either lie, and have a new name, or "pick" Emily. She stirred her coffee, looking inside as she emptied packets of sugar, and milk, into it.

"Not really. Most things don't sound right to me."

"Unfortunately we're going to have to pick a name before today finishes... Just until we can either figure out your name, or someone 'claims' you."

"Kate."

Jerry looked up at her from his paperwork, to find her staring straight back at him.

"Kate it is then."

Emily sipped her coffee, and watched as Jerry scribbled the name down. She liked the name, it was pretty, simple, and something she would remember. Plus she hadn't wanted to use hers. After all what was the point of having your real name in a dream?

He put his pen into the front pocket of his shirt, and began shuffling the few papers he had.

"Well _Kate_," they both smiled at one another, "I've talked to the captain, and he agrees. If you want, you can come and stay with me and Amanda."

Emily choked, again, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise before she could stop them. Someone offering someone a place to stay, after knowing them for a grand total of a day and a half, was practically unheard of. That plus for all he knew, she could actually turn out to be a serial killer. After all it was Gotham.

"Seriously?"

Jerry looked half embarrassed, and scratched the back of his head, while letting out a nervous laugh.

"Yeah. You seem like a nice person. Plus it saves a lot of trouble for everyone, and it would just be until we got you a job. And somewhere to live..."

She narrowed her eyes at him, it seemed a little suspicious someone would go to all this effort. On the other hand it wasn't like she had anywhere else to go.

"And your girlfriend would be OK with this? Living with a _completely random_ stranger?"

He nodded.

"She suggested it."

"She must be one hell of a secure person."

Emily rubbed the dark bags forming under her eyes, frowning at her reflection. She was ready to collapse from exhaustion, and left the bathroom to walk to the bed she had been given.

Having been discharged from the hospital, Emily and Jerry had taken a cab to get back to "their" apartment. Where, she was informed on the drive there, she would meet Amanda. Amanda herself was a quite pretty young woman, who made shit all money as a school teacher, and therefore lived in an apartment with Jerry in the narrows. They had talked about very few things during dinner, as Emily had almost passed out into her food, and Amanda had doted on her since she had walked through the door.

Emily snuggled deep into the bed's blankets, wrapping them around herself. Her pyjamas were slightly itchy, but they were clean.

Amanda was nice, and so was Jerry, they both seemed to hold qualities one would definitely not expect from a person in Gotham. The apartment was a good testament to this. It was tiny. And they planned to put her up until, as Amanda had said, "You can get back up on your feet." She really liked that girl.

Tomorrow she was going to find a job.

She would move out in no time.

And she would find a way to pay these people back.

...And, if there was time, a little batman hunting couldn't hurt. Right?

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**We hope you liked it! We know there hasn't been any Bruce/Batman meetings yet, but how realistic would that be? Gotham IS pretty big.**

XOXO


	4. Chapter 4

**We are so sorry that this has taken so damn long. But with school, not being able to get together to write, family issues, and personal issues, this hasn't been at the forefront of our minds.**

We are so SORRY! We promise future repentance! UPDATES! BETTER UPDATES!

**Again, sorry!**

Disclaimer: We don't own batman. If we did we wouldn't be here.

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It had been one month, a month of frantic job searching, and constantly faking amnesia, and Emily was still living with Jerry and Amanda. Having had no job experience, "Kate Walker", coupled with her apparent lack of any information before her sudden appearance a month previously, was considered a semi-pretty girl, that was likely too much of a liability for any respectable place to actually hire.

Jerry had suggested, at one point, that Emily should join the force, given its knowledge of her history, and the fact some officers were fond of her. Emily attributed this fondness mostly to pity, having met them only once, but had also given the idea some serious thought. However, after remembering that she hadn't become super fit all of a sudden in her dream, and in fact remained slightly 'squishy' as her mother liked to say, realised that there was no way she could pass the physical requirements. Not to say she considered herself fat, or skinny, save for the few times all women experience, but she was highly aware that after only ten minutes on an Exercycle she was prone to giving up, covered in sweat, and going to get an ice-cream instead. So that idea had fizzled out quite quickly.

Amanda, whom Emily liked very much despite the feeling she got that she was being used as a substitute child sometimes, had also attempted to find work for her at her school. She had come home the day, after asking, a rather uncharacteristically angry, and informed Emily that she wouldn't want to work there anyway.

She had, however, managed to pick up a few shifts a week at a 24 liquor store close to their apartment. Jerry, and Amanda, had been against the idea at first, given the location of the store, and the fact that they had hired her on the spot without references and a virtually blank CV. Once, having worked her first week, she had contributed her paycheck to the households finances, the protests had slowed, and then died quite quickly.

Emily slowly sipped her coffee, knowing her caffeine dependency had only grown since picking up extra graveyard shifts, and flipped through the newspaper at the breakfast counter, listening to Amanda humming to herself while making her lunch to take to work. She smiled to herself as she flipped through, pausing to read how a seventy year old woman had beaten off a mugger with a cane the week before, and stopped at a picture of Bruce Wayne eating, what she assumed, was sushi.

Jerry walked into the kitchen area, and leaned on the breakfast counter to see what she was reading, and attempted to steal some of her toast.

"They still on about Wayne?"

She frowned, while swatting Jerry's hand away.

"He only turned up three month ago, after everybody thought he was dead. Plus he's super rich and does whatever he wants." Amanda said while turning around and handing Jerry, and Emily, lunches she had packed for them as well.

Emily nodded in agreement, "Dude sells newspapers."

"Besides, can he help it if he is gorg-photogenic?"

Jerry frowned at this and puffed his chest out a little, while mumbling to himself, and Emily began snickering and tried to cover it up by hiding behind her mug.

Jerry gave her a look, before deciding to switch the subject, and stealing the paper in the process.

"So what time do you start work?"

She looked up and thought for a moment, "Ten I think. And before you ask, yes, I am on the night shift again. And yes, I did just get in from work. And yes, I am going to bed, so I will be taking my delicious lunch, prepared with love and care, and hiding it so I can eat it later tonight at work."

He threw a piece of toast at her playfully in response, and she left the room for bed, hearing the beginning of Amanda lightly scolding him for wasting food, amusement evident in her voice.

Waking up at nine later that evening, Emily put on some makeup, got dressed into her work shirt and jeans, grabbed her lunch bag and left the apartment.

Normally, as they did live in the narrows, Emily would have been walked to work by Jerry, but he was 'manning the station' that night. A bottle of mace, the size of he head, was however considered an acceptable substitute as her escort given the situation.

While Emily didn't like to judge people based on what they looked like, virtually everyone on her way to and from work each day was enough to make her skin crawl. While there were actually decent people who lived in the narrows, Jerry and Amanda standing testament to that, she was also aware of the decidedly indecent people who also happened to share the living area.

She eyed a young group of teenagers across the street she was walking down, and couldn't help but pull her bag, the felt one in which Amanda had given her clothes in the hospital, that was really quite ugly but she had fallen in love with, closer to her body. She reasoned with the stereotypical fear she felt, reminding herself that she was technically in Gotham. On the other hand all she was carrying was a really big bottle of mace, an unmarked house key, a lunch bag, and the bag itself. If she were being realistic, she would probably have realised they wouldn't even want any of it, with maybe the exception of the lunch bag. Or alternatively mace her in the eyes 'for fun'.

With only two blocks left before reaching the, relative, safety of the liquor store Emily allowed herself to relax a little more, almost letting out a sigh of relief before being grabbed and dragged into a side alley.

With a knife pushed up against her ribs, a whiskey smelling breath breathed into her face, she took in a face covered with a balaclava.

"Give me your wallet lady."

Resisting the urge to burst into tears, or laugh at the whole pure Gothamness of her current predicament, Emily reached into her bag for her mace, pretending to look for the wallet he wanted, but she didn't have.

As her hand grasped the bottle, and she began to pull it out, ready to act thanks to the role playing Jerry had made her do weeks before for moments just like this, the mugger grabbed her wrist tight and twisted it, causing the bottle to fall to the ground and leave a deafening silence as they both realised the implications of what she had been just about to try to do.

"Mace? When I have a knife up against your ribs, you're going to try to mace me?"

"Seems silly huh?" Emily let out a small nervous giggle.

Before she realised what was happening, the man drew his fist back and punched her in the face. Letting her slump to the floor, he picked up her bag and began rummaging through it in order to find something of value.

Emily watched in stunned silence, and extreme pain from a probably broken nose, as a figure dropped from a fire escape on to the man who had grabbed her. With tears filling her eyes, Emily couldn't exactly see what was happening, but she felt safe, given the slightly ninja-esque moves of her saviour, in assuming that she was watching an early stage batman kicking the crap out of someone, albeit from an extremely blurry view at a terrible angle.

After three mintues of grunting, and one figure standing over the other and then punching him in the face two or three times, the winner, who she again felt safe in assuming was batman, came over to see if she was alright. Or at least she hoped that was what he was doing, otherwise boy would that suck.

The gravely batman/John Connor voice confirmed her suspicions, and despite the pain, Emily tried not to grin.

"You shouldn't walk alone at night." He paused to help her sit up, "especially in this kind of neighbourhood."

"Ow."

He slowly helped her to her feet, before she fell almost fell over again and he leant her against the wall of the alley.

Emily hadn't _quite_ imagined this when she thought about being swept off her feet by Bruce Wayne.

After giving Emily the once over to check that she wasn't hurt anywhere else, he stood, nodded at her and ran off. Leaving her with a broken nose, a passed out mugger, and an interesting first impression.

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**We put Bruce in because we are nice, and we felt bad about not updating for ages.**

Sorry for waiting so long. And for being so loyal...

**XOXO**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello people. I have been gone a long time. I apologise for this. As an apology for this I shall be updating all of my fanfics. Also, as it should be noted, I am now writing on my own... Which realistically isn't that big of a deal as I basically wrote it all to begin with, my partner was really more of my beta so if their are any mistakes, my bad... :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own batman. Otherwise I would have had Clayface as a villian, regardless of how ridiculous that would have been.**

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Jerry, and Amanda, hadn't taken the news of her mugging particularly well, not that Emily could blame them considering the amount of stitches, and the resetting of her nose, that her trip to the hospital had gained that night.

Although this being said considering the damage done to her actual mugger, one Robert Small as she later found out, she considered herself pretty lucky in comparison. Either Wayne didn't know his own strength, which Emily highly doubted, or he really liked to hit people.

All in all though Emily considered her first interaction with Wayne a complete bust, having later remembered she had only managed to utter an "ow" to him, and not even a "thanks", for the role he had played in that evenings events. If she were to be completely honest about the whole meeting she would have to admit, even to herself, that, given the amount of adrenaline and endorphins likely running in her system when he had briefly tried to engage her in conversation, she was lucky she hadn't come out and said something along the lines of "thanks Bruce. You're even dreamier in person." Which, evidently, he seemed to be.

Pulling off her pair of highly uncomfortable flats, which she wore only for the fact that they both looked very nice and were work appropriate, she sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed at the arches of her feet.

Other than two black eyes, and a yet another encounter with Gotham's finest, who now seemed to think of her as their mascot for some reason, one thing ultimately came from that night, Jerry's refusal to ever let her work at the liquor store again. Which she thought was a slight overreaction, but given as she was mooching off of him she realised it was easier not to argue.

So she had made the only logical step she could think of, and applied to Wayne Industries, for a job even a monkey could do, given that it could type sixty words a minute. Attempting to kill two birds with one stone. Unfortunately she had actually gotten the job, bluffing her way through the interview, only to discover that it was an unpaid internship.

Having had the inevitable conversation this job opportunity brought, Emily was now going to be living with Jerry and Amanda into the foreseeable future. Which she felt bad about for a number of reasons, least of all was the financial burden she knew she was posing on to the both of them, who had been nothing short of outstanding since she had been dropped off at the police station by Alfred.

This being said, Emily was also very aware of the opportunities that this job was going to provide, having now gained an ID card to Wayne tower.

Admittedly her first day had been pretty bad. Apparently the internship basically meant she was a floater, filling in for others when they were sick, which she was quite sure her interviewer had neglected to mention. As such her first day, after discovering her cubicle was next to the bathroom and having her photo taken for her ID card, consisted of handing out mail to the third and fourth floors, and alphabetizing a seemingly never-ending amount of files in a dimly lit store room.

Walking into work the next day, her felt bag in its now usual place at her side carrying her lunch, Emily couldn't help but feel a surge of both panic and excitement. Recognising the feeling from her previous day of work, which had been much worse at the time and resulted in apologising to a janitor for throwing up in a pot plant in the lobby, she continued on her way to the elevators.

The thing Emily was still struggling to grasp about Wayne Tower was the sheer size of the building. While she had noticed it before, having obviously seen it in the movie and almost every day since she had been in Gotham, she had failed to grasp just how many people would work there, and subsequently just how unimportant she would be in the grand scale of things. It was more than a little deflating.

Nonetheless, this being said, she had now also seen characters she actually recognised. Admittedly, these were characters that were either extras or had bit parts, but it was better than where she had started.

Leaving the elevator and walking to her desk, Emily carefully navigated the floor avoiding getting in the way of the other people there. As an intern she was conscious that she was at the bottom of the food chain and as such it was her job to get out of there. As it had been made abundantly clear to her the previous day, when she had been standing still talking to an accountant on the third floor, even if they are moving and you are not it is your job to move out of their way. Lest you be walked into, then yelled at.

Upon arriving at her desk, and safely depositing her bag into an empty draw, Emily turned on her computer to check her office inbox for her assignments for the day. After waiting two minutes for the computer to load, which drove her crazy as her previous laptop had only taken a mere eight seconds in comparison, she finally managed to open her mail.

Emily practically fell out of her chair in excitement. Looking back to check that she had not misread her assignment, she could barely contain the squeal of joy she wanted to release.

Turning off her computer, through the proper procedures as it was highly frowned upon there to hold down the power button until the computer turned off, Emily proceeded to make her way to the elevator.

Once inside the elevator, she took the time to straighten her new blouse and skirt, and attempted to wipe the look of idiotic glee from her face. Pushing her desired button, and inhaling deeply she waited for the elevator doors to open.

The Applied science division. Batman hunting was back on.

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**Anyway there you are... No idea how long it will take for the next one... But thanks for hanging in there!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I know I'm useless and I'm sorry. I've not updated in a very long time but here you are.**

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Having given an entire science division over to an intern, who was thoroughly unsupervised, was probably not the best move the powers that be at Wayne Enterprises could have made, given that that intern was not only a batman fangirl but was prone to bouts of complete idiocy.

After realising that she wouldn't get to meet Mr Fox, which she had to stifle her great disappointment over due to her love of both the character and Morgan Freeman, Emily had come to realise that he was the one who she would have to be filling in for and would be expected to do little more than sit there and watch the high-tech gadgets around her gather dust.

She had spent the first five minutes looking for the area where Mr Fox was likely to keep his things, and upon finding it, couldn't resist the urge to slip into his lab coat and put on the glasses she found in the right breast pocket. She then decided to behave and sat in a nearby swivel desk chair until her shift was over.

This lasted a grand total of seven minutes.

Using the swivel chair as transportation Emily preceded to wheel it around the vast area, and upon becoming extremely tired very quickly, decided to get up and walk around abandoning the chair to fend for itself in a corner.

She walked towards an area of the floor where she could see an enormous amount of gadgetry, pausing only to consider whether or not she wanted to find the Tumbler and have a crack at driving it, before deciding to start small. After all, she would need something to do after her lunch break.

Upon finally reaching the rows upon rows of shelves, which she noticed when closer were in disturbingly poor condition as bits of rust were sticking out from underneath the tacky orange of the frames, she could barely decide what she first wanted to try out. Seeing what looked liked the gloves of a Kevlar suit made the decision easy.

Emily reached for the gloves and, despite knowing they were built specifically with stopping a bullet in mind, was surprised at how hard they felt. Slipping them on to her own hands she was oddly reminded of wearing oven mitts and decided that the first course of action should be to test them out. By punching a wall. Immediately regretting this, she hissed in pain and slipped the gloves off to cradle her now injured right hand. She also wondered as to why she was so stupid she thought that doing that wouldn't have hurt.

Placing the gloves back in their exact position, albeit considerably less dusty, Emily moved on to inspecting the other items stuffed onto the shelves around her. Twenty minutes, two flesh wounds and a potentially sprained wrist later, Emily managed to spot a grappling hook gun wedged between what looked like a deformed beanie baby and a, what she assumed was, throwing weapon of some sort.

Managing to pull it from a shelve Emily walked back between the rows to the more open area of the floor, where she fully intended to test the gun out, having apparently learnt nothing that day.

Standing with her feet shoulder width apart, she raised the gun to level it out and aimed it further into the open space that seemed to take up a large amount of the division at this point in the trilogy. Emily knew that this was not the correct way to use the gun, but the small amount of self-preservation she did have left made her aware that it was best to play around with it, but not actually use it as it was intended, at this point.

Bracing herself she pulled the trigger, only to be disappointed when nothing happened. Her self-preservation once again failing her she pointed the barrel at her face to see if there was something wrong that she would be able to fix within the barrel itself.

"You left the safety on."

Emily let out a small shriek and threw the gun threw the gun in the direction of the sound while whirling around, only to see Bruce Wayne standing there with an amused look on his face.

"You know Lucius," he began to walk towards Emily only stopping to pick up the now discarded gun where it had come to a stop on the floor between them, "if I had known you were going to turn into a blonde twenty something woman while I was away for a few days, I would've left sooner."

Emily looked at the hand that was now within reaching distance, lazily stretched in offering with the gun she had thrown in her panic. If her brain hadn't decided to quit and the situation had been playing out the way she wanted this would've been, as she later realised, the time where she responded with a witty comeback. Instead her mouth decided to hang slightly open in horror, shock, and overwhelming excitement, only managing to open and close seemingly of its own accord a few times.

Bruce gave a, once again what she assumed to be bemused, smile and took her hand placing the gun into it.

"I'm just going to have a look around and take a few things to play with."

Emily's brain deciding to finally join the conversation allowed her to close her mouth and nod dumbly. While deciding it didn't want to make her seem like a functioning adult, her mind did however deem it fit to immediately think of the filthiest context for what he had just said.

Standing stock still Emily realised that this was not at all what she had prepared herself for today, and was now doing her best not to burst into tears or start laughing like an Arkham patient due to her nerves.

By the time she had managed to regain some semblance of control over the whole situation he was already exiting the floor with a duffel bag full of gadgets. She sincerely hoped he had not noticed that the entire time he had been there in the shelves she had yet to move, like some giant teenage obsessed fucking idiot.

As she watched him leaving her turned out to call after her,

"By the way, nobody really needs to know what's been going on down here. So if you won't tell anybody Mr Fox, then I won't either." It was at this point he glanced towards the gun still in Emily's hand.

She managed to nod again, and he smiled in return before getting into the elevator.

"And just so you know, the glasses are a good look for you."

The elevator doors closed and Emily's eyes narrowed in confusion before she reached up to touch her face. She was still wearing Mr Fox's glasses and lab coat. Fan-fucking-tastic.

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**So there it is, given how long you've had to wait for it - my bad if it's not up to scratch. In all honesty it's been so long since I've actually written the character it was incredibly hard to slip back into so hopefully none of you feel it's to OOC for her.**

**Please let me know what you think! But only if you want!**

**XOXO**


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